


Rumba

by yeaka



Category: Dirty Dancing (1987)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24343414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Penny helps.
Relationships: Frances "Baby" Houseman & Penny Johnson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Rumba

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Dirty Dancing or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

She needed the dip. For those brief few moments underwater, wading out as far as she could go, just lying on her back and staring up into _nothing_ , Penny’s head was clear. She watched the white clouds waft snail-slow across the pure blue sky, and that’s all there was: peace and simplicity. Something _easy_. But then the weight crept back into her body and her stomach growled— _she hates thinking of her stomach now_ —and she paddled back to shore. 

She climbs the rock-strewn sand, her polka-dot mini-dress glued to her body like a second skin. She should’ve gone back to change, but it was a spur of the moment decision. It’s a warm enough day that she knows she’ll dry off soon enough anyway. And it’s not like anyone looks twice at her to judge. Johnny might, but he’s the sort of person that would dive off a pier in a full tie and suit. 

She steps into her sandals and checks the clip holding her darkened hair in place. Stray strands drift in front of her, heavy with water but still susceptible to the stirring breeze. They wave in her peripherals, and beyond them, she catches greater movement through the trees. 

She has a few hours before the next shift starts. Certainly enough time to investigate. She could use another distraction. Penny strolls up onto the grass and through the sparse sprinkling of forest, further and further from the chatter and music of the club. Curly blond hair bounces up, a salmon-pink skirt flying in circles. Baby’s humming softly to herself, practicing a one-person tango, then switches to the samba. When she spins around and spots Penny, she stumbles to a halt. Even though her rhythm’s too staccato, Penny tells her, “You’re doing great.”

Baby offers a sheepish look and shrugs her bare shoulders. “I’ll never be as good as you.”

Unlike the first time Baby approached her, the complement settles in: Penny has a newfound respect for Baby that makes the words warm and sincere. She knows Baby really does admire her, really _knows her_ , against all the odds. That means something. 

Penny still amiably counters, “You’re a better person.”

Instantly dismayed, Baby splutters, “That’s not true!”

“Relax,” Penny laughs. “I wasn’t putting myself down, just saying you’re... well. Thank you.” In case it’s not obvious, Penny adds: “For everything.”

Baby melts into a gentle smile that makes Penny want to wrap her up in open arms and really squeeze it home, murmur _thank you_ in her ear and make sure she understands. She’s done so much for Penny already, is willing to go to such lengths, and Penny wasn’t kind about it in the beginning. She regrets that now. She walks the extra few steps between them and tells herself she’s going to give Baby a hug, but instead she chickens out and steps directly behind Baby. 

She reaches around to place one hand on Baby’s flat stomach, the other smoothed across her leg. Guiding her into the proper posture, Penny says, “C’mon, I’ll show you how to move those hips a little better.”

Baby chuckles, “I know, I still look like a flailing chicken. Johnny’s showed me a hundred times, but...”

“But Johnny moves like a man,” Penny teases. He’s an _amazing_ dancer, but he’s still a _man._ It’d be fine in the basement, gyrating the way they want, but what Baby’s trying to do is structured—she needs a specific sort of sway that Johnny can’t or won’t master. Penny has. 

Penny slowly moves her body to a silent beat, and when her thighs splay against the backs of Baby’s, Baby moves too. 

Penny takes her through several steps that she keeps up with admirably, and then Penny slips into the lead and lifts Baby’s hand, spinning her around. Baby laughs as she goes twirling around. 

She’s smiling beautifully in the midday sun, lit up like a star. Even if she could never make the Rockettes, she’ll do wonderfully on Thursday. Even if she didn’t, Penny’s grateful.

Penny’s grateful to have even met her. They dance long past Penny’s dress drying out, and Baby’s all but perfect.


End file.
